Day 98 ~ Happy Easter from the Viking Star

April 17, 2022

65 degrees and sunny. It's a sea day, so the temp really doesn't matter.

Christ is risen. He is risen indeed!

Today is Easter Sunday, a time for great rejoicing among Christians! It was a day for singing and that's how we started! The DH and I sang "Christ the Lord is Risen Today" for the 9:30 AM service in the Star Theatre. It was well attended and the crew were given time to come if they wanted. 

Then at 5 that evening, we sang for the 50th wedding celebration for Julia and Mike, a couple we made friends with here on the Star. She danced a lovely hula while we sang "How Great Thou Art" as her accompaniment. We were blessed to be part of their celebration! 

We've been so glad to have fellowship with so many Christians while we've been on the Star. And the Sunday services are wonderful places to share. We've had many people involved in leading singing, reading scripture, leading responsive readings and preaching.  On Easter, we were glad to just sing a duet, but on Palm Sunday, I preached for the first time ever in my life. It'll probably be the last, so just as a record for posterity, here's my Palm Sunday message:

“He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear the Lord and put their trust in Him.” Psalm 40:2

When I ran across this last scripture Brian read, I asked Roger if I could share a bit today. I’m not a preacher, but I have been known to tell a story or two. So that’s what I’ll do. 

This story is not mine. My mother’s older brother, my Uncle Ed, tells it. It’s about something that happened when he was a little boy, about eight years old. 

The family lived on a small farm in northern Missouri. It was only 100 acres, but it was enough to have 40 acres in rotating crops, a pasture with a pond for twenty or so milk cows, a flock of chickens, an apple orchard and a big garden to grow vegetables. It was enough to support a family. There was no running water in the house, but they did have a spring-fed well in the yard. When I was a kid, I remember the fun of pumping that pump, waiting for the water to gush out, clear and cold. Of course by then, they had water in the house, but when my uncle was young, it wasn’t fun to pump the well. Hauling water was an essential chore for cooking and washing. 

All of us on this trip have seen how desperately hard life becomes when there isn’t sufficient water. So my grandparents’ well stopped working, it was an emergency. The family needed that well, so my grandfather moved the cement lid, pulled out the pump and all the pipes and shined a lantern down into the rock-lined well. All he could see was black mud in the bottom. The spring was clogged up. 

There was nothing for it. Someone had to go down and clear it out. So, my grandfather tied a roped around my Uncle Ed and lowered him down with a bucket, which was also on a long rope. He was supposed to fill the bucket with muck and tug the rope for his dad to haul the mud up. Again and again and again, As long as it took until there were only smooth stones with water bubbling up between them again. 

My uncle is a good man, so I know he was a good boy. I know he wanted to help his father. He wanted to be brave. But once he reached the bottom of the well, his feet sank into that gunk. It was dark and damp and he couldn’t see them but he was sure there were wriggling creatures in there with him. Maybe even a snake or two. And the sky overhead where his father was holding the other end of the rope seemed so far away—just a circle of blue. 

My Uncle Ed was afraid and he started to cry. 

My grandmother heard him from inside the house and she came out and told my grandfather to pull him back up. Then, she had my grandpa lower her down into the well with the bucket and she stayed there until the water was starting to slowly fill the well again.

She knew what was down in that dark well, but she still took my uncle’s place. 

Now I’m going to make a sharp pivot, but please bear with me. 

Today is Palm Sunday, the day Jesus entered Jerusalem riding a donkey. Some people think that indicates that He was humble. He was, but He was also modeling the triumphal entry of previous Jewish kings. David and Solomon didn’t enter the city on war horses. They came riding a donkey, an animal of surprising strength for its size and representative of peace. Jesus was declaring Himself King of the Jews. 

I’ve been fascinated by the festive atmosphere we’ve seen in the last few ports we’ve visited during Ramadan. Once the sun sets, the streets come alive with people sharing food and drink. On one of our excursions, people would crowd up to our bus to hand our driver bottled water and something to eat—a “mercy meal” they call it. 

On Palm Sunday, Jerusalem was already in a festive mood because Passover was coming, so the arrival of a king was icing on the cake. They were ready to rejoice! 

But Jesus knew their welcome would be short-lived. He knew what waited for him in Jerusalem and it wasn’t a king’s crown. It was a crown of thorns. In less than a week, the people who cheered and waved palm branches and laid their cloaks on the ground so his donkey could walk over them were the same people who could cry for Barabbas to be released instead of Jesus. 

When Jesus rode into Jerusalem, He knew he’d be betrayed by one of his closest friends. He knew he’d be beaten and have his beard ripped out and be spat upon. He knew he would die in agony. 

And He also knew there was no other way for atonement to be made for my sin. And your sin. And the sin of the whole world. 

He took my place. 

I ask a lot of questions that don’t always get answered. Most often it’s the questions that start with “Why…” 

But in this case, I do know why Jesus was willing to take the punishment my sin deserves. It’s the same reason my grandmother had herself lowered down into that well. 

Love. 

Love sent Jesus to save us. Love is what made Him set His face steadfastly toward Jerusalem and no one could turn Him from His purpose. He didn’t come to be a teacher, or a good example, though He was that. He didn’t come to do miracles, and heal people and raise the dead, though He did that too. He didn’t come to be a worldly king, though He could have in a heartbeat. 

He came as the Lamb of God. He came to lay down His life to be the perfect substitute for us. To exchange our sinfulness for His holiness. Love made him take our place. And His love reaches down to us and waits for us to respond, to sing with the psalmist: 

“He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God.” 

And  then we all sang “What Wondrous Love is this, O my soul?”

Wishing you a joyous and blessed Easter! 

PS. My new friend Candyce, who lives down our hall, snapped some pictures from Mike & Julia's celebration. Here we are singing "How Great Thou Art" in Torshavn while the lovely Julia is preparing to dancing for Jesus!  

Thanks, Candyce!